


The Bank Heist

by AandMProductions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AandMProductions/pseuds/AandMProductions
Summary: Our three favorite heroes are in over their heads as they embark on their greatest adventure yet -- a not-so-simple BANK HEIST! Will they make it out alive?!





	

The Three Musketeers- oh, I mean, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimil -were supposed to be stealing Saruman's money. They had gone to Key Bank as instructed, but an ice cream van had driven by and Aragorn and Gimli began to chase it, shouting and waving their weapons. At first, the driver had driven faster, but after a moment he realized that they were actually shouting, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!"

He pulled over and Gimli began begging Legolas to buy him a popsicle. Legolas had rolled his eyes and muttered that it would have been better to just wait until AFTER they had Saruman's money to get popsicles, but he had gotten out his wallet and paid for them anyway. 

Then, as Gimli slurped enthusiastically on his lemon and grape popsicle, they checked the security at the bank. They quickly decided that it would be a lot of effort to get inside, so they settled down to wait for something to happen. Gimli finished his popsicle (and Legolas', because he was making puppy dog eyes and, as Legolas said, so much sugar would make him lose his figure, so he wasn't exactly devastated), Aragorn picked his nails with a knife, and Legolas alternated between looking at the fashion magazine he had brought and texting his roommate.

A guard came by once to ask, very rudely, why they were loitering. Legolas batted his eyes and swept the guard aside for a moment. The guard, bright red and grinning stupidly, had left them alone after that. Legolas winked at Aragorn. 

A raccoon scuttled into the bank. They watched it go. Soon, Snape came storming out of the doors. 

"I am a bloody SIR!" he screamed. 

"Yes, calm down, mister," said Legolas while Aragorn complimented Snape's hair. 

Snape, now slightly calmer, excused himself so as to call his therapist. 

"Yes, hello? ...Is Mister Frodo available? . . . Yes, hello Frodo. Can we schedule another appointment tomorrow at three? . . . Yes, it was another ma'am incident . . . uh-huh. Well, thank you."

He put his phone away and started chatting with Aragorn again. A few minutes later, the raccoon burst out of the bank with several large bags of cash. 

"See you, suckahs!" he hooted. A SWAT team and lots of members of the security force pounded down the street after him. So did an overenthusiastic accountant. 

"Hey!" said Legolas. "Everyone will be so busy chasing the raccoon that they won't notice us stealing Saruman's money!"

“Capital idea,” agreed Aragorn, withdrawing from his conversation with Snape. They said goodbye to Snape and started creeping through an unusually tall air vent. They had only gone a few yards when Legolas’s phone rang, his ringtone of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” echoing through the vent. Aragorn and Gimli slowly turned to glare/stare disbelievingly at him. Legolas grinned guiltily.

“Sorry, gotta get that,” he said, picking up. “Hey Dad. What’s up? . . . Really. I see . . . Well, Dad, I’m sorry your Salon got robbed . . . Uh-huh . . . What’d they steal? . . . Rose shampoo, really. Well, Dad- . . . Well, maybe they really liked it . . . Dad, what’s Tauriel got to do with it? . . . I don’t care that you don’t like her, I do . . . And she’s got nothing to do with the robbery. Uh-huh. Well, it could be Elrond’s sons . . . or the Weasley twins. Or Gollum, he could sure use it . . . No, Dad. Yes. Uh-huh. Okay . . . Dad, don’t change the subject. Dad. Daaaaaad. DAD! No way. No, Dad, she's married already. Dad, no. Dad, I don’t care what you say, I’m not going to consider going out with Arern, no matter how good her family is or how much money she had. . . No . . . No. Tauriel- Dad, she’d ‘have a decent job’ if you hadn’t fired her- . . . Dad? Dad? What’s going on? Oh. Look, I’m sorry someone shaved your moose . . . I really am . . . No, Dad . . .Okay. . . No, just because Tauriel doesn’t like going to your spa doesn’t mean she’s- . . . I told you, she runs an- . . . No, she’s not going out with a dwarf, what gave you that idea? . . . What?! Dad, I- . . . Look, sorry Dad, gotta go . . . Yes, I’m with Aragorn. Geez . . . No Dad. DAD! IT’S NOT A DATE! Gimli’s with us . . . Yes, the hairy short one you don’t like . . . . . . Dad, I’ll tell him, but I don’t think he wants to use DeFriz shampoo . . . No . . . Okay, I’ll tell him . . . Yes. B- What? . . . Hold on, Dad, say that again . . .”

The elf put the call on speakerphone, putting a finger to his lips to signal that the other two musketeers were to remain silent.

“I said,” said Thranduil stiffly, his voice tinny from the phone. “That I don’t want you hanging out with people like that. The Dwarf and the Ranger are dirty peasantry.”

“Thank you Sir,” said a grinning Aragorn.

There was silence from the iPhone. Legolas shook it, wondering if Thranduil’s mortification could have shot the connection, or if the robber from the salon had murdered him. Finally, the Moose King said: “Legolas, there will be consequences when you return.”

“Yes, Ada,” said Legolas cheekily, returning the phone to his ear. “Yes, I understand . . . Uh-huh. Yup . . . No, I don’t think he’ll tell Rita Skeeter. . . No . . . Uh-huh. Dad, may I remind you he’s hardly peasantry . . . He’s the mayor of San Francisco . . . That’s nice . . . No, he doesn’t work on a Canadian crab boat, how’d you get that idea . . . Uh-huh . . . Bye, Dad. Love you too . . . No, I do! . . . Bye.”

He hung up, rolling his eyes, and tucked the iPhone back into his quiver.

Aragorn lead the others down the vent. It suddenly decided to become less abnormally tall and more abnormally short. The Three Musketeers were reduced to crawling on their bellies, Gimli making loud clunking noises. Legolas’s quiver scraped on the roof and Aragorn’s sword dragged noisily on the echoing metal floor.

“We’re so sneaky,” said Gimli smugly as he dragged himself along. “No one will ever know we’re here.”

 

Up in the bank above them, a nervous-looking clerk looked nervously up from his nervously-filled out papers and listened nervously. His name was Arthur Dent. Arthur shuffled nervously over to a snotty looking accountant.

“Sir,” he said nervously, his eyes shifting nervously about. “I believe someone may be attempting to break into the vaults.” He looked around nervously and started to nervously chew his fingernails.

“What?” said the snotty accountant snottily. He snottily checked his watch and glanced snottily at the floor. He coughed snottily and then snottily shrugged.

“Not our business,” he said snottily, checking his nails snottily. “That’s security’s job.”

“But, Sir-” tried Arthur Dent nervously.

“No buts!” sniffed the accountant snottily. “Get back to work, Dent!”

 

Meanwhile, The Musketeers were running into some issues. Not only was crawling getting somewhat tiring, it was also getting somewhat hot and damp, and Legolas started complaining loudly about how all this moisture was going to ruin his bow - and worse, his hair.

“Shut up, Leggy!” hissed Aragorn. “I see a light up ahead!”

Legolas, or Leggy, as we can call him, reluctantly shut his mouth. The passage got taller and wider, thankfully, so they were all able to kneel next to each other and mutely observe where the metal tunnel branched.

“Um,” said Gimli.

“I think it’s this way?” said Leggy uncertainly, pointing at the left tunnel.

“What makes you think that?” asked Aragorn skeptically.

“Elvish intuition. You wouldn’t understand,” said Leggy haughtily.

“So you don’t know at all,” said Gimli grimly (we can call him Grimli now).

“Don’t be so grim, Gimli,” said Leggy. “I think it’s this way.”

“Well, I think it’s this way,” said Aragorn Who Does Not Work On A Canadian Crab Boat, pointing to the right.

“Why?” asked Leggy suspiciously.

“Because- um, I don’t actually know,” admitted Aragorn Whose Bloodline Was Totally Uninventive. “I just wanted to look impressive.”

“But his guess is as good as yours,” Grimli pointed out to Leggy.

“So which way do we go?” asked Leggy, a little upset that they had ignored his suggestion.

There was silence.

“Guys,” said Leggy, breaking it. “I think we're going to have to ask for directions.”

 

Ten minutes later, the trio (who also do a really good band) stood awkwardly in front of the front desk of Key Bank. Grimli and Aragon pushed Leggy to the front. Aragorn cleared his throat loudly.

“Hi, I'm Camille, how may I help you?” she asked without looking up from Twilight.

Leggy cringed, but he shook himself and walked up to the desk. He took a deep breath and pretended she was John Barrowman.

“Hi, Camille,” said Leggy throatily, leaning over the desk and cranking up the charm. Camille looked up from her romance novel and gaped at him, her heavily mascaraed brown eyes wide.

“Hey Hottie,” she said.

“Hey,” he said, leaning closer and batting his lashes, “I was just wondering-”

“Yes,” gushed Camille, grabbing the front of his shirt. “I’m totally free. My shift ends in ten minutes, you can hang around back here with me, it’s really slow right now so we could have some fun or something-”

Leggy looked bewildered and tried to pull away. Camille tightened her grip.

“So, Hotshot, what’s your name?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked that first?” squeaked Leggy, twisting his head back as she closed in.

“Hey, cool ears,” she said, fingering the object in question. “They from a costume shop or something? Those are really good. Wait, don’t tell me where you got ‘em. You know what they say about guys, right? If he’s got big ears, than something else is big too, right? I like my boys big.” She smiled and looked like a wolf.

“Um,” squeaked Leggy, “guys, help!”

Aragorn and Grimli laughed behind him.

Camille wrestled him to the desk. He thrashed wildly, trying to come up for air. 

"I don't even like girls!" he squealed. 

When he finally wrenched himself free, his hair was mussed beyond recognition and there were bright pink lipstick marks all over his face, not to mention that his shirt was unbuttoned all the way down his chest. He gasped, backing away, and jumped into Aragorn’s arms.

“Wait for me, handsome,” cooed Camille. “My break starts in five minutes!”

Leggy got down from Aragorn’s shoulders and panted, “We need to get out of here before five minutes are up!”

Aragorn laughed. “Let me try,” he said, moving to the desk to the right of Camille. A ditzy blond was trying to turn on her printer and failing miserably.

“Hey there,” said Aragorn easily, reaching over and turning on the machine for her.

“Oh, hi,” she said slowly. “I’m Krystal. Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” said Aragorn. “We were having some trouble navigating the vents up there. We need to get into Saruman's vault, it’s high security.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, smiling toothily, “here.” And she pulled a piece of paper from the printer and started to draw them a map. Aragorn smirked at Leggy.

Four minutes and fifty-two seconds later, they were closing the door to the the vents.

“Hot Stuff,” they heard Camille calling, “Hot Stuff, I’m on break...HOTSTUFF! DON’T YOU DARE WALK OFF LIKE THIS, YOU SON OF A BISCUIT!”

Leggy ran over Grimli and Aragorn in his haste to get as far up the abnormally tall passage as possible.

They laughed and followed. When it got more abnormally short, and they were on their hands and knees, Aragorn suddenly bumped into Leggy, who had stopped suddenly, and Grimli suddenly bumped into Aragorn, who had also stopped suddenly.

“What-”

“Shut up!” hissed Leggy. “I hear something!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin off of part of our crazy story "The Waldo Lake Episodes". This one is better, though. Give us some feedback pleeeeease. Legolas wants you to. If you loved him, you would leave a comment. So do it. Just do it. For Leggy. Tell him if he should continue his adventures or if he should just go home and watch RuPaul's Drag Race (because that is honestly so much better than robbing banks, and he doesn't want to keep doing this if he doesn't have to).


End file.
